


teenage love extraordinaire

by memitims



Series: sandwich asshole au [5]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-29
Updated: 2014-08-29
Packaged: 2018-02-15 05:31:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2217549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/memitims/pseuds/memitims
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>ian's not sure if mickey totally believes, not yet, but he knows they'll get there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	teenage love extraordinaire

Work was so much better when they were back to normal - Mickey making him laugh during lunch and Mickey trying to mooch as much of Ian’s sandwich as he could and Mickey kissing him behind the cleaning supplies. Ian forgot that his internship was boring as hell and he forgot the sharp pain of a broken heart, because they had both mended theirs, with chocolate sandwiches and shy smiles in the dim lighting of the Gallagher kitchen.

Mickey had finally confessed what he was afraid of, what he had doubts about, and Ian had tried to reassure him.

(“My dad’ll kill me if he finds out,” Mickey had said. “I’m not exaggerating. He’ll fucking kill me.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Ian assured him, through a mouthful of nutella. “He’ll go back to jail pretty soon anyways, right?”

Mickey nodded.

“Okay,” said Ian. “We’ll just make sure he doesn’t find out until then, okay?”

“Yeah,” Mickey agreed, “Okay.”)

They sat across from each other in the cafeteria, their feet tangled under the table, and Ian felt stupidly happy. He held out a piece of his sandwich towards Mickey, who had already scarfed his down, and Mickey took it without hesitation.

“Thanks,” he muttered, shoving the bite into his mouth.

Ian shrugged. It made him sad, how Mickey always seemed sort of in awe when anyone did anything nice for him, like no one in his entire life had taken a second and given him a chance, like no one ever told him he was special or that he deserved good things or that they’d never met anyone like him. He knew Mandy did her best, but their relationship mostly consisted of playful sibling banter and protecting each other from their father. There wasn’t anyone to ground Mickey’s heart, to remind him that what he felt was valid and okay and wonderful.

Ian intended to fix that.

He stared at Mickey across the table, watching the way his dark eyelashes dipped downwards and the tired circles under his eyes and the creases in his forehead.

“What?” Mickey said indignantly, his lips turning upwards. “You gonna ask for your fucking sandwich back?”

Ian didn’t respond to his question. “You’re great,” he said instead.

“Uh,” stammered Mickey. “Excuse me?”

Ian shrugged. “It’s true.”

“You’re so fucking weird, Gallagher.”

Mickey finished the sandwich and narrowed his eyes at Ian, like he was trying to see inside him, like he was trying to see what made him tick, and that made something swell up in Ian’s chest, because he still couldn’t believe that Mickey had come back, that he had decided that Ian was worth it after all, worth putting aside the fear and the dirty looks and the hatred. He had forgotten, in this whole thing, that Mickey wasn’t the only one that needed to see that someone cared about them.

Mickey looked like he wanted to figure Ian out, like he was already halfway there already, and that alone made the heartbreak of the past few weeks worth it.

After a few moments, Mickey’s face began to change slowly, to something less curious and something hungrier, his eyes getting darker as they began to dart down towards Ian’s lips. Ian knew where this was going.

“How much time before you have to get back to work?” asked Ian, innocently, wetting his lips with a quick flash of his tongue.

“Ten minutes,” Mickey said, his voice low.

They stood up at the same time and headed for the exit, trying to get out of the cafeteria as subtly and as fast as they could. Ian grabbed Mickey’s hand as soon as they were in the hallway, dragging him towards the nearest janitor’s closet. Mickey didn’t pull away.

Mickey crowded him inside, pushing him up against the back wall and kissing Ian until he couldn’t breathe. He pressed his hands into Ian’s shoulders, and it sent a shiver down Ian’s spine. They hadn’t touched since Mickey had ended it, not like this, and he had missed the sparks that flew between their skin whenever they came close. It was bright and intoxicating and Ian wanted more.

He brushed his nose against Mickey’s when they broke apart, staring down at his face. He trailed his hands down Mickey’s chest, resting them at the top of his jeans, and he began to dance them over Mickey’s waistband.

“Mickey,” he said, because he had forgotten every other word in the English language.

Mickey nudged back. “Get a move on, Ian.”

Ian slid his hands into Mickey’s pants, pulling off his trousers and boxers and curving his fingers around Mickey’s hard cock. He twisted his fingers a few times around the head, before stroking lower, and he leaned down to taste the small whimpers that left Mickey’s mouth. They breathed against each other, their mouths barely touching, and he worked around Mickey’s cock and Ian could feel his blood rushing south. Mickey jolted upwards with every twist of Ian’s hand, his breath catching in the space between their lips.

He watched Mickey fall apart, and he felt himself come undone at the same time, his cock swelling in his pants, and  _fuck_ , he had to go back to work after this, but none of that mattered with Mickey moaning his name.

“Ian,” Mickey chanted, and then his hips were bucking wildly and he was coming in Ian’s hand. He rested his head in Ian’s neck, for a moment, his breath tickling Ian’s skin, before he was reaching down and pulling Ian’s pants to his ankles.

“Oh,” Ian said, stupidly. “Mick - Mi _ckey_.”

Mickey knelt and bent his head to mouth at Ian’s cock through his boxers, teasing him until all Ian could do was fist his hands in Mickey’s hair and hold on tight. Mickey finally,  _finally_ , pulled Ian’s boxers off and sucked him down, bobbing and kissing along Ian’s cock. Ian pulled gently on Mickey’s hair and threw his own head back, bumping it against the wall. Mickey was driving him crazy, with the soft flicks of his tongue and the warm heat of his mouth, and then Ian’s hips canted upwards and he came down Mickey’s throat.

“Fuck,” Ian moaned, long and drawn out, watching Mickey greedily as he pulled off of Ian’s cock and quickly wiped a hand across his mouth. Ian let go of Mickey’s hair, and Mickey stood up again, facing Ian with a dazed look in his eyes.

“Jeez,” he whispered, and he leaned forward to rest his forehead against Ian’s. His hair was soft when it brushed over Ian’s skin, and they didn’t kiss, not quite, they just stood together in the darkness, wrapped up in each other, escaping the outside world for as long as they could.

Ian inhaled softly, breathing in the smell of Mickey and chocolate and his minty shampoo.   
“You’re great,” Ian said, again. “I was serious before. And not just at giving blowjobs.”

Mickey didn’t say anything for a while.

“Okay,” he finally breathed against Ian’s lips. Ian didn’t know how to make sure Mickey truly understood how much he meant, how honest Ian was being, but he figured he just had to believe that he got it through Mickey’s head. That was all he could do - believe.

They were quiet again.

“How much time do we have?” Ian asked, breaking the silence.

Mickey checked his watch. “Two minutes.”

Ian nodded. Mickey stepped back a little and his eyes drifted downwards, leaving Ian’s face.

“Ian?” His voice was soft, and it set something off in Ian’s chest, the same thing that happened every time Mickey abandoned his harsh exterior, like a bullet went off behind his ribcage. “You really think we can make this work?”

Ian took Mickey’s head in his hands and their eyes met, a tangle of relief and uncertainty and hope spreading between them. He leaned forward and kissed Mickey, long and slow, before pulling back with a sigh.

“Yeah,” he said, with absolute certainty. “I know we can.”

Mickey smiled, and Ian vaguely realized, somewhere in the back of his mind, that he’d been doomed (well, not quite  _doomed_  anymore) since the first time Mickey smiled at him. Mickey had grinned and Ian had never been able to turn back.

Ian smiled, too.


End file.
